


The Heirlings

by Book_Fairy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Bookworm Harry Potter, Child Abuse, F/M, Fem Harry Potter - Freeform, Female Harry Potter, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other, Past Child Abuse, Slow Burn, Time Travel, bookworm tom riddle, maybe angst idk, mentions of pedophila, no beta we die like men, the kids are like eight give them a few years before they start fucking, tomarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_Fairy/pseuds/Book_Fairy
Summary: A neglected Hera Potter runs away from home and finds herself in the past. She is taken into an orphanage and becomes friends with the boy across the hall, Tom Riddle. As they grow up, they guide each other, learning about how magic could be used for good or bad. When the two find out that there are others like them, it changes their lives.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 49
Kudos: 246





	1. Chapter 1: The escape

It all started with a pink floral plate. At this point in time, most families had them. Pink floral plates were something any respectable, normal family had so of course, the Dursleys had three sets of floral plates. It was something Petunia Dursley prided herself on. The plates were always spotless and sitting on a shelf built especially for them. To Petunia, this meant she lived in a perfect world. The only catch to this seemingly perfect world was one small five-year-old child.  
Hera Potter. She had arrived on the doorstep of 4 Privet Drive, late one October night. Petunia Dursley had always wanted a female child to pamper, so taking in her niece was not a burden.  
At first.  
Then the magic started. At first it was simple things, the teddy bear was a little closer to Hera's crib than Petunia remembered. Petunia noticed, but refused to believe this perfect child could be anything like her sister or her sister’s husband.  
It was a shame really when Dudley tried to steal all of Hera's toys. It caused one overweight, sobbing toddler to be silenced and stuck to the ceiling. When Hera's aunt arrived to check on the two young children, she found two fast asleep children. One on the floor and one in a crib. She woke Hera up and began explaining to her that pushing Dudley onto the floor was not allowed. When Hera looked up with Lily’s eyes, waved her hand and all the toys in the room lifted up and away from Dudley, Petunia accepted the truth.  
The Girl was a Freak.  
The girl was quickly put into the old cupboard under the stairs. Hera stopped getting the same amount of love as ‘Precious Dudders’. When Hera began to cry at night due to either lack of food or a dirty diaper, Petunia would get her out of the Cupboard and do the very minimum to get the almost-two-year-old to stop crying and without delay quickly push her back into the cupboard.  
When Hera turned three years old, she was given her first chore. The three-year-old girl was given a broom and told to get all the leaves off of the porch. When she did that task for nearly a week, Petunia gave her a rag and told her to dust the house. It took Hera almost five hours to dust just the downstairs area. As Hera got better at cleaning and sped up, Petunia gave her more and more chores.  
Back to the pink plate. It was the first time Hera was allowed to wash the good dishes. She was five years old and wary of the world in a way most would expect of war veterans. Hera had been beaten for mistakes like not flushing the toilet after cleaning it so she was terrified just thinking about breaking one of the pink plates. She washed them ever so carefully, treating them as most would treat a young child. She was on the last plate when a rock crashed through the large kitchen window. 

A second rock flew through the already cracked window moments later. It smacked directly into the last of the pink plates, destroying them. Hera watched as shards of pink sailed through the air, a soft tinkling filling her ears as shards of ceramic fell onto the gleaming floor.  
At that moment, Petunia stormed into the kitchen, likely summoned by the breaking window. She first took in the sight of glass from the window shattered across the floor and a visible scowl spreading across her face. When Petunia saw her prized possession shattered on the floor with two rocks lying near it, her anger rose. Pure hatred boiled over, turning her pale eyes into a dark black.  
“You ungrateful child,” she growled, “we’ve raised you and treated you like we would our own child and you repay us with this? Breaking things that are worth more than your entire life! You deserve to be killed for this!” Hera, who had fallen to the floor, trying to pick up the pieces of broken plate, began scooting away from her furious aunt.  
Hera’s eyes shot wide in fear as her aunt reached for a frying pan. The first strike was almost in slow motion for Hera. A still-warm frying pan hurtling towards her left arm. It had never before occurred to Hera that her relatives could kill her. She had always assumed they would stay behind a line. They could kill her.  
Kill.  
She could die and nobody would know or care.  
The pan crashed down on Hera’s arm and with a sharp crack pain flared over her entire left side. She had to run. She had to get out of the neighborhood. The Dursleys were going to kill her and the only way she could live was by running.  
Hera rolled onto her right side and pushed herself up. Tears were streaming down her face as she stumbled to the back door. Hera’s theory in running out the back door instead of the front was that the Dursleys would care less because the neighbors would not see anything.  
If she ran out the front door with a broken arm and gash marks covering her face, the neighbors would talk. If they talked, the authorities could be brought into the whole mess and discover there was a child with no documentation living with the Dursleys. That was not normal.  
So Hera stumbled out the back door and as she grew to understand how much her arm hurt, she began to run into the woods behind the house. If she could go into the woods and get out the other side, she might be able to find a family to take her in to cook, clean and garden.  
Hera ran through the woods for what felt like hours. It was exhausting. Every branch that cracked or twig that snapped made Hera panic and run faster. Tripping over roots and piles of leaves, Hera made her way through the forest. It did not take as long as she had expected to reach the other side. This looked like what Aunt Petunia called the ‘bad part of town’ Hera did not want to stop in the bad part of town.

If Hera had been paying attention to the run-down homes around her as she scuttled forward on her path to a better part of town, she would have seen the houses morph into nicer versions of themselves. As she continued the houses became nicer and newer looking before turning into humble cottages with large vegetable gardens.  
Hera was still in the ‘bad part’ when she caught a glimpse of a large building, kind of what a hospital looked like on the TV. She decided that because hospitals were supposed to help people, she would go in.  
Wincing in the pain that was her left arm, Hera went up to the front door and knocked. Hoping someone would be able to hear and help her, she waited.  
The intimidating black door creaked open and a short, thin woman poked her head out. There was a moment of clattering and then a softly spoken, “Oh you poor dear, why don’t you come on in?”  
Hera glanced at the woman in confusion before realizing she was the one being spoken to. She nodded and took a few tentative steps into the lobby of the hospital. Although she knew talking was not allowed, Hera began to speak,  
“Excuse me, ma’am, I think I have a broken arm,” Hera paused for a moment and took a deep breath, willing away the pain, ”This looks like a hospital, I think, and Aunt Petunia told Dudley to go to a hospital if he was hurt,”  
Hera paused again and looked up at the woman who let her in. the woman began to speak, looking vaguely angry,  
“This is not a hospital darling, it is what most call an orphanage. I might be able to help you find your family if you can-” she crouched to the flood looking up at Hera with wide eyes, “oh darling, what is wrong? I didn't mean to scare you,”  
Hera looked up at her and with the widest eyes she could muster, she said, “My parents are dead and my aunt and uncle don’t want me,” she held her arm up, grimacing at the pain, “look, they broke my arm,”  
Many long hours later, Hera Potter had a dark green cast on her arm and a room to call her own. Room D2. It was in the attic and the matron apologized profusely for the inconvenience, but it looked amazing. The room had dark grey wallpaper that had begun peeling and almost all of the space was taken up by books and piles of paper. Hera was content.


	2. Chapter 2: The Book and the Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom does some stuff. Wait... Okay so you meet tom and he does some stuff and there is a pedophile guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for pedophilia and mentioned rape.

For Tom, the most irritating thing about being alive was the other people. They constantly were talking about things that did not matter. It was constant noise at the orphanage, the other kids seemed to hate the concept of silence. Even when the children were asleep, they would make noises, snoring, and sniffing noises that stole sleep from Tom.  
It was his fourth time evicting the other boys out of his room. It grated on his nerves the first time they came back and every time after that it only got worse. He had thought about using The Power on them but decided that having the people who he sleeps next to want to kill him was too much of a risk. On the other hand, they were unrelenting in living in the same room as him. Tom decided that he would go halfway and just lock everyone in the building out of his room.

He found several pebbles and pushed The Power into them. After many days of experimenting, Tom had found the right amount of Power to use so that the pebbles would not let anyone in the orphanage through his door. The rule was five children per room and Tom knew that there was only one boy in room C3 although the boy, Billy Stubbs, tried to pretend like he had others with him.

The fifth time Tom sent the children out of his attic bedroom, he knew they would stay out.

Because of the way the orphanage was split up, with girls on the left and boys on the right, there was no way to go in between the wings without going through the main hall. Because the matron did not want there to be any problems between the girls and the boys, there was one attic room that was empty. Only Tom knew that there was a little hole in the back corner of the hall that connected the two attics.

If the matron had known about that little hole that children could fit though she would have thrown a fit. It was 'Improper' for boys and girls to be able to interact without adult supervision. Tom did not really want to interact with the girls, they squealed too much and they never cared about the important things in life.

Tom knew that he shouldn't have taken over room D2, but there was no-one who lived there and the other girls' room still had two spaces left. He began filling it with old bookshelves that he had found while exploring the basement. He then began filling the bookshelves up with the books teachers gave him and books he stole from the other children.  
When he found the lightly used beanbag outside some rando's house, he claimed it and from then on had a comfy chair in his little reading room. Tom began a stash of food that could be stored for a long time so if they ever got locked inside because of bombings, he could have some extra food.

Every time a new girl showed up, Tom panicked. If someone was in his room, reading his books, he would go mad. They were his only possessions other than the little trinkets he stole from the other children when they forgot their lessons.

Every once in a while, Billy Stubbs would walk up to Tom with his shoulders thrown back and a smirk on his face. Billy would then threaten Tom, promising that if he did not hand over room D1, there would be hell to pay. It was not that Tom did not believe him, it was just that he did not care. Nothing that Billy did could ever scare Tom.  
When this phenomenon occurred, Tom would tilt the corners of his mouth down and with The Power, take away the ability to breath from Billy and watch as he slowly turned red, then purple, then he gave up, choking out that it was fine, Tom could keep the room.

It was a shame, really. Tom wanted to see what would happen if the air didn't flood back into Billy's lungs. It was always so much fun to trap a chipmunk, pin it to the ground with stakes through its little hands and feet, then slowly tear into the soft flesh of its stomach as soft shrieks spewed from the creature's mouth.

Tom knew he was not normal, he had The Power and he loved the pulling shrieks of pain from animals, or humans if he was feeling particularly violent. It had only happened one occasion, Tom torturing another human. It was a man who had come to the orphanage to adopt. Tom did not trust him and he was proven correct when the man tried to take him away. Usually, the adoption process took months, and only qualified people could get there. When this man walked in, Tom knew something was off. He looked like one of the men you would see in back alleyways pressing women against walls.

He walked in and looked around at the children milling about and when he saw Tom, he froze and left the room. When he came back Tom had retreated into the little space behind the dresser of toys. The man had—somehow— managed to adopt Tom with no arguments from anyone. Tom later thought that he might have promised to take Tom to the countryside, where he would be safer.

The man did not do that, he instead took Tom to one of the alleyways previously mentioned and began saying add things. Things like,

"Oh, I can't wait 'till I claim that pretty lil’ arse of yours,"

His voice was a low growl and had a sort of accent that he hadn’t revealed in the orphanage before that sent shivers down Tom's spine. Because Tom did sometimes listen to the older boys, he did know what arse meant. That the man was leaning near him was odd, but Tom didn't mind. He was going back to the orphanage anyway. Tom just walked away from the man. When he heard footsteps behind him, Tom began to run. He eventually got lost, but the footsteps were gone. He traced his steps back and found his way back to the orphanage. Using The Power, he erased the minds of everyone who knew he had been adopted.

A little more than a month later, the newspapers released an article talking about how a serial rapist had finally been caught. He had assaulted fifteen little girls and six young boys before being caught. When Tom looked at the picture provided, his breath caught. It was The Man.

Tom was furious. He would shudder every time he thought about The Man. He could have been a statistic, him, Tom Riddle. It was the first time Tom had ever wanted to hurt a human. He had mused over killing Billy Stubbs, but Tom had never wanted to hurt him while keeping him alive.

By the time Tom arrived at the police station, it was reaching dusk.

A week later they found a body so mutilated that the only identification the police could use was a note found atop him that said that it was William Brown, the serial rapist.

Tom was eight years old and he knew that he was special. He had known for some time. The one thing the boy wanted was someone else like him. When he had shown one of the nurses his power, she got angry at him and called for a doctor. When Tom showed it to the doctor, he was beaten. Tom could hide his emotions after that. Soon after Tom abandoned emotion, the doctor stopped coming.

With the newfound freedom, he made up the secret room previously mentioned. Tom woke up one morning with the feeling that he should move all of the bookshelves away from the room. He ignored it. Oh, how he would regret that decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have changed the room Tom was in. In the books, he lived in room twenty-seven, alone. There was no indication of having to live in a room with other children, but for my story, I need Tom to have the only solo room. I would also like to mention that we are in the middle of a pandemic and everyone should stay safe. I am at a lake house with nothing to do all day. Because of this, I am thinking about posting once a week. Once my dance starts up again, I will go back to once every two weeks.  
> I really enjoy writing this, and I am hoping it will improve my writing in general. If you have any suggestions, please comment on them. If you want me to include things, tell me. I will try and incorporate any feedback I get.  
> If you guys have any questions, feel free to PM me, I should answer within the day. I hope you enjoyed it, please comment any suggestions or thoughts you had about this chapter.
> 
> I love you guys (male, female, other, and spoons)  
> BookFairy
> 
> **Keep in mind that this was the original author note. All author notes from here on out will be the original, with any other notes at the bottom, as seen here**


	3. Chapter 3: The intoduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Hera meet.

Tom was enjoying a relaxing afternoon in his book room when the unmistakable sound of the matron's footsteps echoed through the room. In a moment of panic, Tom dove behind the dresser and used 'The Power' to hide himself.

The Matron stopped outside the room, giving Tom a few precious seconds to orient himself more comfortably behind the dresser. The matron was, for some reason, talking to herself. Understanding bloomed in Tom's mind as a whisp of a girl stepped into the room.

She was tiny. Tom was only eight, but he knew that no child was supposed to be that size. He felt bad for her for a brief moment before squashing the feeling down. He had no time for sweet sentiments. She had long dark hair. When she turned to the cabinet, her hair flew out behind her. Tom grimaced as she gasped as she looked at the books. She would probably give them all away for money.

The matron looked less than pleased about the books, but said nothing. When the girl began speaking about them again, the matron decided to interrupt, "If you want, dearie, I could take them away," The matron looked around in disdain, "There's no need for a lass like you to have this many books--" The matron looked a little perturbed when the girl cut her off with in her quiet, high voice, but it sort of fit her in a way Tom wouldn’t understand.

"No need ma'am," the girl smiled, "I love books. They let me escape from, well..." She cut herself off, her small rosy cheeks reddening even more as she glanced down at the wooden floor. The girl turned, pushing a few loose wisps of her hair behind her ears, "May I please put my things away now?" She smiled as if the matron had just forgotten her previous words. Tom turned to look at the matron, she had. 

“Of course dearie.” Tom winced when he noticed his oversight. The girl had a cast on. It was surprising to him that it was not an obnoxious color of pink, but she was different from most of the other girls in other ways.

The matron left the room and moment later the girl was standing, hands on her hips, staring down at him,

"Why are you here?" Her voice was no longer nearly as sweet. It was high, but in a cold, somewhat menacing way. "The matron told me that there are no boys allowed in the girl's rooms and yet you are sitting there, glaring at me." She let out a puff of air as Tom pushed her out of the way. He stood up and looked down at this girl challenging him.

He scoffed, "Well the matron," the word rolled off his tongue like poison, "Also said that girls belong in the kitchen raising children, and obviously," Tom let the word roll though his mouth, sarcasm heavy on his tongue, "That is not something you would enjoy," Tom was about to end his little speech and wanted to make sure she would not bother him so he pushed The Power out of his body, filling up the room with a thick, heavy energy, "If you don't bother me, I will not bother you, got it?"

The girl looked up at him with eyes full of . . .

Joy?

She then smiled and Tom felt a foreign presence encompass the room. It was light and made him think of frolicking in meadows with butterflies. It was Power. Power so unlike his own. It took up less room than his and it was like the sun showering a forest in rays of joy. Tom wanted to destroy it. He wanted to watch as the power became darker and darker, becoming the thick fog that he knew so well. Tom vowed to corrupt it, making this girl, this tiny little thing into a creature of darkness. He knew she would be powerful, and he wanted to watch as she painted the world red.

With a small smirk on his face, Tom began speaking once more,

"I changed my mind," these words were drawled, like dripping hot wax off the side of a candle, the girl looked frightened, then her face hardened, "You have the same power I do, and and only a little less of it than me it seems," Tom smirked at her. "And I want us to grow it together. We could rule the world with this," he paused, "This unrelenting power that we have."

The girl looked at him with a mixture of shock and … adoration on her face.

Already she loves me.

She then proved that thought false as she, attempting to match his tone, responded, "You know quite well that I have the same Power as you," She paused, searching Tom's face. "You say that we could control the world, but why would I do it with you?" She looked at him, staring right into his eyes and as he stared back, he noticed the glint of challenge that he hadn't noticed before. "What do you have that would make me better?"

The girl had the audacity to smirk up at him, "You only have a little more power than me, why should I not train and take over the world on my own?"

Tom did not even think, the words started pouring out of his mouth.

"With that type of thinking, you would be a wonderful commander- or- no," the words coming out of Tom's mouth hardly made sense to him, let alone anyone listening, "I could be the king of the nation we make and you could be the highest-ranking officer."

She looked scandalized, and took matters into her own hands. "What if I am the queen and you are the highest-ranking officer," the girl looked a little upset at the thought of not being the highest ranking in a world she created," based on your earlier tactics, you would want to rule with fear. I would rule with kindness, and I would take over the world faster than you ever could," Tom looked at the wall in thought for a moment, pondering something only he would know.

"What if I am the king, and you are my Queen," Tom flushed, and looked at the floor, "We could rule, taking the world over,"

The girl looked at Tom, a soft smile playing across her face.

"I would like that." She glanced at the door and a look of panic flashed across her face. "Quick, hide," she began pushing him back to the dresser. "The matron," she hissed when he did not move.

The girl scuttled over to the bed and remade it, looking for all the world like she had been tidying the entire time the matron had been fetching blankets. The girl immediately turned back into that little angel he had seen before, looking, and acting, like she could do no wrong.

After a few minutes of being fussed over, the girl, almost ridiculously politely asked the matron,

"Matron, it has been quite a long day," the girl paused and under the guise of moving her hair around, shot a smirk at Tom. "I tire easily you see," Tom had to hold in a snort at the comment. The girl looked like she could take anything and not be phased. "Please, ma’am, I will just go to sleep for a little, I will be awake to help with dinner." The matron nodded her head a little, seeming to agree before leaving. Tom was a little bit impressed; the matron never left the new kids alone.

Tom wriggled his way out of his hiding spot and turned to the girl. "By the way, I'm Tom." He held out a hand. The girl dropped into a curtsy and extended her own hand.

"Hera Potter at your service." She smiled and her face slightly flushed.

Tom let his Power fan out once more groaning in appreciation as he did so. Hera gaped at him, pushing out the Power was difficult. How, and why did he seem to like it?

Tom liked this new mystery of his. She was powerful and seemed to have similar ideas as him for world domination. Hera turned to Tom, and watched with awe as he waved his hand and all of her blankets folded on her bed. Hera pushed aside the awe, she could do these same things without the Power. They were not revolutionary.

"Tom," the name soft on her tongue, "How do you push your Power out like that?" the girl asked, looking a little confused. Tom pushed out some of his and let it roll through his hair. He looked a little unsure but responded nonetheless,

"Oh, I just kind of release my hold on it," he let the Power flow out of him again. It smelled vaguely of leather, "I have never tried pushing it out," He scrunched his face up, a look of concentration overtaking his sharp features. A new rush of power came flooding by. It was insane. The Power rushed by in a wave that practically had Hera falling over. There was so much of it coming out of him, like an endless wave of Darkness.

Tom had never imagined ever having power anywhere close to this magnitude. He was in shock.

After working with Hera for almost an hour, he figured out what was going on. She had been pushing the power through each of her fingers, so only a definite amount could emerge at one time. Tom had found a way to push power out of every pore in his body, so more of it could come out at one time.

Almost three hours later, Hera got it. A whirlwind of spring, all the life being invigorated, all dead things coming alive in anticipation. Tom stood in a bubble of dark sludge while the rest of the town was plunged into a bubble of springtime.

Hera now understood why Tom had made a noise of appreciation when he let out her Power. it felt like a weight was pulled off her shoulders, there was no more stress.

Tom bid Hera a good day, and returned to his room. There was no need for him to be there. The books would have to wait until he was tired of this new discovery. A girl with Power like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~The Heirlings~~
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter! It was super fun for me to explore the relationship between Tom and Hera. 
> 
> If you guys have any questions, feel free to PM me, I should answer within the day. I hope you enjoyed it, please comment any suggestions or thoughts you had about this chapter.  
> I love you guys (male, female, other, and spoons),  
> Bookfairy
> 
> **You may notice that the format changed, I am trying somthing new, that is much easier**


	4. Chapter 4: Dumbledore's an Idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore tries to find Hera. There are arguments, and drama, and it is really fun.

**Present Day Technically Speaking**

For the first time since All-Hallows Eve, 1981, Albus Dumbledore lost the twinkle in his eyes. On that night, five years ago, Albus did the thing he regretted most. He let two of his most loyal supporters, James and Lily Potter, get killed by the maniac that went by the name of Voldemort. Their child had gone on to defeat Tom Riddle. This is the point in time where Albus did something he never thought he would do. 

He dabbled in dark magic.

Albus spent months before the night when the girl’s parents would die studying this particular branch of dark magic. The very night before All-Hallows Eve, he set the blood wards. The entire time he was setting them up, he could feel the cold sludge of dark magic running through his body. It felt like he was being frozen to death from the inside out. When the wards activated, it was like a rush of pure joy rushing through him. Later on he set up wards so that anyone who tried to pass through into the Dursley household with intent to harm Hera would be thrown to a park a few miles away. It would be inconvenient for Hera to get killed. She was needed to save the sheep of the wizarding world from the Dark Lord Voldemort.

When Hera was placed on the doorstep of the Dursley’s house, Dumbledore decided against any protection spells. He wanted to make sure that the savior of the wizarding world was tough enough to withstand the pressure of being the savior. If she somehow was not strong enough to fight Voldemort, Dumbledore would be looked at as the one responsible for ruining this ‘poor girl's’ childhood. 

That could not be allowed.

When people asked where the Girl-Who-Lived was living, Dumbledore would just answer with, “somewhere safe."

This cryptic answer would be his ruin five years later when the instrument sitting in a place of honor on the far left side of his desk abruptly stopped whirring. The sensor that connected to the blood wards had either stopped working, or Hera Potter had been gone for more than a month from the Dursley household. Hoping that against all odds his device had broken, Albus called his most trusted adviser to his office.

When Minerva McGonagall walked into the office of the man she trusted most in the world, the first thing she did was look into his baby blue eyes and panic. Within moments of the missing twinkle being seen, there were three more people in the office, all former members of the Order, a vigilante group created to stop Voldemort. Many of the people lost in the Blood War had been fighting with the Order. There were fewer and fewer members that would still arrive at the monthly meetings that Albus held, but he was sure that if a second blood war started, they would all come back to him.

Within the hour, Albus had sent out a group with two of his most accomplished soldiers to 4 Privet Drive. Thirty minutes later, they returned. When Minerva gave him the news, he took one deep breath in, and his eyes hardened. Wherever the Girl-Who-Lived was, he would find her and teach her. If she knew enough wandless magic, she would be able to protect herself from being kidnapped. 

Albus made his way to Dumbledore Cottage in Godric’s Hollow and pressed on the phoenix mark on his right collarbone. The marks on all of the Order members would heat up the smallest amount, letting them know that they were wanted. 

When all of the expected attendees arrived, thirty minutes had passed. Albus was a tad disappointed that it took that long, but began to speak despite that,

"We have found that Hera Potter is missing," there were a few gasps, "I know this is grave," he paused, letting his grandfather persona wash over the crowd, "We will find her! I have faith that everyone who has decided to join us now will join us on the search for the Girl-Who-Lived." There were a few mutters from the crowd, but most of the people in attendance knew that this was a vital quest. If they did not find the girl-who-lived, the people would lose hope.

It never occurred to Albus that the people had already lost hope.

  
  


There was a week before school started and Albus was both confused and frustrated. No one could find Hera Potter. The Order had people out searching for months, and all they could find was a short trail of magic that ran into the woods. It quickly faded out. 

They had tried the best tracking spells they knew, and after living through a war, there were some pretty good ones there. When those did not work, they tried the best tracking spells money could buy. Letting the goblins try and find their missing hero. When nothing turned up, Albus began to truly fear.

Countless scenarios were flashing through his mind. He had known how Hera was likely to be treated. He had, after all, taught Lily Evans. She had come back to Hogwarts each year, often crying, because of her sister. What if the sister had killed Hera and had dragged the body through the forest? What if Hera had gotten possessed by the soul fragment in her scar and Voldemort was alive again?

With nothing else to do but panic, Dumbledore decided to speak with the Dursley's and see if they knew what had happened. Albus probably should have done this at the start of the search, but the way wizarding logic worked was always different.

He made it to the house in question, blending in seamlessly with the muggles in a neon pink suit jacket and some gorgeous lime green pants. The shoes with bells he had found might not have been quite as normal, but in his opinion, every outfit needed a little bit of oddity. 

When he knocked on the door, a woman with a sharp ace and thinning hair answered. There was a moment where she looked at him in shock before grabbing his arm and pulling him inside. The slammed the door closed and hissed, 

"Why are you here?" Her nose wrinkled in distaste, "I thought you were only coming back when the freak had to attend that stupid school." Albus sighed, and pushed into her mind.

It was disorganized, as most muggle minds were. Albus pushed around, not going too far into her mind, skimming the surface of most of the recent thoughts. When he found a memory surrounded by guilt he hastily yanked on it, not wanting to possibly lose the only information he had. As he watched through the memory, Albus became quite disappointed. How could the precious girl that Hera had been turned into a monster that destroyed someone else's property? 

He retreated from Petunia's mind and smiled down at her, “don’t worry dear, if you show me where Hera is, I will make sure she gets punished for destroying your--” he paused for a moment, “house and your plates. I did not realize she was such a burden on you,” once more he paused looking down on the woman, when she did not say anything against the burden comment, he continued, “I am also willing to pay you in return for your discomfort.” The woman looked up at him, and when she accepted the pay, he left. 

It was incredibly troubling to Albus that the sweet little toddler he knew had turned into a vicious child that broke windows and glass plates when she did not get her way. He would need to speak to the Order about this, and make a plan on how to fake the Longbottom boy as the savior, the-boy-who-lived.

He could claim that death eaters left a fake wand and cloak in Godric’s Hollow and that Tom was actually defeated by, what was his name, Noah..? Albus sat there, in his throne plotting ways he could force all the responsibility onto ‘Noah Longbottom’ so that no-one knew that the savior of the wizarding world was both a female and a troublemaker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… I was having so much trouble with chapter five that I did not want to post this for fear of not having it out on time. I have, not two minutes ago (from writing this author's note) pulled it into a folder of abandoned writing. It is such a freeing feeling! I am probably going to just abandon the ‘future’ perspective. If you guys really like it, feel free to tell me and I will try and make it work, but it is pretty difficult for me to do. I love exploring Tom and Hera’s relationship, and these chapters do nothing but make me laugh at the dumb titles I can come up with. 
> 
> **I really do not like dumbledore. He is not a good person. also, there is this kid at my school who is unrelentingly flirting with me, and I am kinda ridiculously attracted to her but I don't know what to do, please help**


	5. Chapter 5: Outcast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poor hera...

Almost every morning, early, before the sun emerged, Tom would make his way into Hera’s room. In the beginning, he would sneak in and shake her shoulder for as long as it took to wake her up. As time went on, and they became more comfortable around each other, he would run in and bounce on the bed. Hera would immediately wake up.

Once in a blue moon, Hera would wake before Tom and sneak into his room. Not understanding the implications, she would crawl into bed with him and burrow into his chest. She would make herself comfortable and go to sleep. Tom would usually wake up a few moments later and sigh in defeat before waking Hera up.

Hera would run back to her room, or push Tom out of it, and get dressed in the grey wool dress that the orphanage provided. She would make her way downstairs and meet up with Tom in the foyer.

She would link her arm through his and drag Tom off into the kitchen. Once there, she would sit Tom down at the bar with a knife and some potatoes, and force him to help with breakfast. The older girls loved it. They had to do less work, and they got to coo over the adorable girl who would twirl around the kitchen. Like magic, they would have breakfast ready in mere minutes after she arrived.

Hera would grab Tom's arm and pull him over to the row of tables. He, like a true gentleman, would pull out one of the many wooden old chairs. Today, the chair was slightly wobbly with a few red stains, he didn’t know where they came from, but he was sure Hera wouldn’t mind. They would sit down, and one of the older girls would bring over a large plate of food.

There were always at least two older girls who sat with Hera, and by extension, Tom. They loved how chipper and bright the small girl was. She would walk into a room, and anyone with any stress would relax. It was calming for Hera to take away stress. She would relax her Power a little bit and let it wash over the room, a soft layer of joy.

It was endlessly amusing to Hera when Tom would do the opposite. He would go into rooms and let the darkness envelop the room. Unlike the warm, springlike feeling of Hera's Power, Tom would let the harsh bitterness of winter flow through the room.

As the four kids sat down at the table, Hera would chatter, often deciding what she wanted to do with her day. Tom would occasionally cut in, correcting Hera if she made any speaking mistakes, or if he did not want to do something.

The older girls often spoke of how Tom would be a 'heartbreaker' in hushed voices. Hera would find them in the corner and, quite loudly pronounce that,

"Tom would never be a heartbreaker. There are much more efficient,” pausing here, she would sound out the large word, "ways of hurting someone," The girls always laughed it off, thinking that the sweet little child who laughed at everything was playing around.

  
  


Hera went on with her day. When she tried to play dolls with one of the other girls her age, she was pushed away,

"Just 'cause you hang with that Riddle boy, dosen' mean that' you can hang with us," The girls glared at Hera, trying to get her away, "go away, freak," one of them said. Hera felt a frown make its way onto her face. The Power came rushing out, doing exactly as it's mistress commanded. It washed over the girls, and they felt the usual sunny, happy feeling disappear, changing from spring, to summer, a summer that would kill any and all life. The heat worked its way into their very bones, making every inch of skin flush with fever.

She frowned, pulling her Power back inside her body, the immense heat dissipating from the room. It took so much concentration for Hera to pull the Power back into herself.

There was a bang, and seven-year-old Hera startled, her Power rushing back into the room in a tidal wave of hate and darkness. There were gasps of pain, and when Hera began to collapse, exhausted from the amount of Power she had used, there were arms there to catch her.

Tom, who had begun to grow quite rapidly, and was only three years away from reaching the maximum age for being in the child section of the orphanage, wrapped his arms around her waist. He looked down at her with awe,

"What was that," he gasped, helping her stand, "It was incredible, it was kind of like a wash of fire." He led her over to the overstuffed chair in the corner, "When I promised to corrupt your magic, I did not think it would happen that quickly,” He let out a shallow sigh, “That was gorgeous.”

Hera was confused with a dash of concern. She liked her springtime power, it complemented Tom’s so well. She was the spring that gently tugged the harshness of the winter into the bright joy that was spring. If she had summer as well, they would not be able to take over the world. It would be unfair to everyone to live in eternal misery. Having their world going from freezing to boiling every time one of them got mad would be awful.

Tom began to gently knead her hands, rubbing them together between his own. It centered her, letting her Power pool back inside of her body. Hera wanted to make sure that it was all out of the room before she tried to make it feel like spring again. Concerned about her power, she spoke,

"Tom, I think I am going to retire," she nodded at him, indicating that it would be fine if he came over, “I want to make sure that I am feeling better," she paused looking deep into his eyes, telling him that no matter how much he enjoyed when darkness took over, she would always prefer the spring, "I will see you soon," she finished, standing on wobbly legs.

As Hera made her way back to her room, the matron stopped her, and began to speak, "Hera, darling, could you get the laundry?" The woman looked down at the girl who had quickly become the favorite, "Oh my, you don’t look so good," the woman proceeded to shoo Hera away, "Go lay down for a bit, I can get the wash," Hera wandered up to her room, dreading what she would find when she released the Power again.

Tom was already lounging on Hera’s bed when she made her way through the door of room D2. He glanced up from the book he was reading, the Hobbit, and smirked at her before placing a sheet of paper into the book and tossing it onto the bedside table. He walked over to Hera, who was still in the process of taking off her shoes, and wrapped his arms around her.

She was tugged over to the bed, where Tom sat her down on the hard mattress and gave her a long stare before starting,

“Hera, I love your Power. You know that,” he paused, waiting for her to nod, “You also know that I do not care what form it is in,” He waited, again for a nod, “When I promised you, two years ago, that I would corrupt the Power, I was not joking,” A flash of surprise shot across Hera’s face, “I want to make the sweetness inside you into a darkness that only I can control. I would never hurt you, and you know that,“ He kneeled down so they would be face to face, and when Hera barley nodded, he pulled her into his arms. Hera let out a sob, and Tom hugged her a little tighter.

“The sweetness that you have is delightful, and I love every part of it,” He had turned the whispering into barley a murmur, “Unfortunately, other people, the bastards in this world, will try and take advantage of the sweetness, “ he pressed his nose into her hair, letting one hand trace patterns on her back as she cried, “ And you know that if that ever happens, I would kill somebody, right,” She nodded into his shoulder, and content that she was done crying, Tom let Hera disentangle from him.

Hera grabbed one of the books off of the shelves in her room and sat next to Tom, cuddling in close. Every once in a while, one of the two would stand and either switch out a book, or do some stretching. It was relaxing, and helped Hera get her mind and Power back together.

It was close to six o’clock when Hera turned to Tom, she asked, “Tom, would you stay here whilst I test my Power?” It was such a simple request, and yet, it meant so much. To both of them. They had been experimenting for years with their power, and every time there was any sort of issue, they separated, scared of what having double the Power in one room might do. 

Hera relaxed, letting the tight hold on her magic disappear. A flood of Power rushed into the room, and to Hera’s delight, it was like fresh flowers and sunshine. The amount of relief that was communicated through that surge of power was tangible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! This chapter was really difficult to write for some reason. I do not like the beginning part. If anyone has any suggestions on how to make it better, that would be wonderful. The next chapter was super fun to write and I hope it will be fun to read. Right now it is sitting at, like, 1,075 words, and I generally like to write a little more than that, but it came to a clean ending so i might do two shorter chapters three days or so apart. Please give me your opinion on what you want. 
> 
> If you guys have any questions, feel free to PM me, I should answer within the day. I hope you enjoyed it, please comment any suggestions or thoughts you had about this chapter.
> 
> I love you guys, gals, others, and grass
> 
> Bookfairy


	6. Chapter 6: PARTY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hera's Birthday party... but not actually because I cannot plan my writing at all

When Hera woke up, she was expecting to have a heavy body bouncing next to her. When she woke to find an arm laying heavy across her midsection, she froze. When she tried to scoot away from the body pressed up against her, the arm pulled her close, preventing her escape.

She lifted the arm off of herself and turned to find the culprit. It was Tom. She shook his shoulder, attempting to wake him up. It would not do for the matron to find him here. When he awoke, he murmured a few incoherent words before he gave her his usual greeting.

"Morning, Hera," then a long yawn, before the eleven-year-old boy rolled over and fell back asleep. Hera rolled her eyes at him before jumping up. When she realized that the only thing on her body was the short white nightgown the orphanage provided, she squealed, and grabbed the blanket covering Tom and used it to cover her own body.

He yelped at the rush of cold and flared out his Power, a draft of a warm fire, taking over a cold winter night, letting it wrap around Hera and pull her close to him. He wrapped his lean arms around her small fame and pulled her close. Pressing his face into her hair, he sighed, "darling, it is entirely too early--” A slow breath was making its way out of Tom's mouth, "to be awake and functioning." He looked over her up and down, she had let the blanket droop a little. When she noticed Tom's gaze, she flushed a bright red.

"Tom, don't do that," She stretched out the word Tom and turned away from him right before she pushed him away. "Go back to your room and get ready.” she ordered, she peered over to him, "It is my birthday so matron will let us go out to town,'' Tom looked at her, winked, and left the bright red eight-year-old in her room.

She took her time getting ready, wanting the people in town to think well of the orphanage, and her. Because it was her birthday, one of the older girls lended a dress to Hera and the other girls got to work on mending it. Hera usually did not enjoy dresses, but this one was really pretty. It was a simple pale green dress with a dark green ribbon coiled around her thin waist. There were a few stains and rips, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

Hera tied her long hair up into a medium high ponytail with a beautiful green ribbon that matched the ribbon at her waist and her eyes. The matron always talked about her eyes, how they were so green that she had often wished that she had those eyes.

Hera made her way downstairs, and out the door. She was going to visit the teenager building. It would be the first time that she had ever ventured into the building where the older kids lived. They were big, and scary to most of the kids at the orphanage. Hera had never been truly frightened by the imposing size of the teenagers, she just never had needed to visit the older kids.

She arrived at the front of the building, and knocked on the door. It was a special knock that Rebecca had taught her. It would tell the older kids that she was welcome, and that she was not the matron.

The door opened, and a boy who looked about fifteen sighed, "you're Becca's little angel, right," when she nodded, he continued, "go on in, she has been so excited 'bout it," Hera thanked him and walked inside, her steps hesitant. She was then ushered up to Rebecca's room.

There were less of the older girls, so they all only had two roommates each. The other girls that roomed with Rebecca often ate breakfast with Tom and Hera as well. They all wanted to help with the preparations. Mary was on kitchen duty, so only Rebecca and Elizabeth were there to help Hera get ready. 

Mary had left out some of her cheap cosmetics for the girls to use. Hera’s hair was taken down and quickly pulled and twisted into two French braids with the dark green ribbon adorning the ends. The older girls seemed to have an endless supply of the things. 

Mary had  _ promised _ to do her makeup before the ten o’clock departure, but they only had thirty minutes left, and Hera was starting to get anxious,

“‘Becca,” she waited for acknowledgment, “Do you think Mary's going to be late?” Her voice was pitched quite high with worry. She visibly stiffens, and turned red when Rebecca responded,

“Awww,’ she cooed, “Is the little princess worrying about her date with a certain Riddle?” She looked down at the flushed girl, and let out a soft laugh, “don’t you worry, Mary will be here any moment,” only seconds after the final word came out of Rebecca’s mouth, a panting Mary showed up at the door, short red hair bouncing with her movement.

“Never fear,” she sang, voice rough from a lack of oxygen, “Mary is here to save the day!” There was a scoff from the back corner of the room. Rebecca lifted her hands from Hera’s shoulders and pushed her in the general direction of the vanity sitting next to the door. Only the older girl got vanity’s. They had to put effort into their appearance so  _ they  _ could find  _ husbands _ .

Mary soon had Hera seated in the white wicker stool that sat underneath the vanity. There was a small bowl of the cosmetic in Mary’s hand, and she wielded a makeup brush with the grace of a warrior with her sword. She dabbed the brush into the cosmetic powder and used the brush to expertly tap it onto Hera’s eyes. 

Almost fifteen minutes later, Mary declared herself done. Turning around Hera looked at what they had done for the first time. Her twin French braids made her hair significantly neater, and the makeup that had been applied made her eyes look like those of a baby animal, with long lashes framing bright green eyes, she looked like a mythical creature. 

Hera thanked the girls, and with promises of something from town, made her way back to the main building. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys, gals, others, and spoons so much for reading! This chapter was super fun to write, and I hope you enjoy it just as much as I do!
> 
> I have two chapters pre- written, but unfortunately, with a mix of school, and outside of school activities, I have a lot less time than I used to. I will try and get chapters out at the same pace, but the next chapter I am writing is being a bitch and I cannot seem to get it quite right.
> 
> If you guys have any questions, feel free to PM me, I should answer within the day. I hope you enjoyed it, please comment any suggestions or thoughts you had about this chapter.
> 
> I love you guys (male, female, other, and spoons)
> 
> Bookfairy


	7. Chapter 7: The Actual Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They actually have the birthday party

Tom was waiting impatiently in the front room for almost ten whole minutes. It got boring after the first five, and by the tenth, he was ready to jump off the roof. The moment he saw Hera, that thought changed. She looked radiant. With twin braids that Tom was dying to tug on and a pretty dress that matched her eyes, Hera looked so pretty. His Hera, no one else could have her. He grinned foolishly and noticed that she was slightly taller than normal. He looked down to her feet and noticed that she was wearing low heels. Although he would probably never admit to it, he was glad that she was shorter than him. 

He walked up behind her and gently placed his hands on her head. He ruffled up the tops of the braids before pressing his magic onto the top of her head. She gave a slight shiver before turning around and saying,

“Tom, you know I don’t like it when you do that,” he smirked at her and increased the flow. Hera looked up at him and smiled softly before bringing down a wave of warm spring on Tom. She seemed to be under the impression that he didn’t like it. But she was heavily mistaken. 

“I will tell Matron that you are being mean to me and should not be allowed to come with me to town,” Hera was practically singing at him. Taunting him with the power she now held. Hera was one to give her heart, and Tom appreciated that, but he was not like that, and never could be. He would keep all his emotions penned up, and only release them when he was hurting someone, or getting revenge.

Tom scowled down at her, noticing the height difference that grew with each passing year. He playfully put a hand on his heart and stumbled backward, dramatically screeching, “you wound me so dear Hera,” He proclaimed, and she giggled, that sweet giggle that sent his stomach fluttering. He grabbed her hand and they walked together to the Matron’s office. 

Because Hera was turning eight years old, she could now go to town with permission from the Matron, and a child over the age of ten with her. It opened up so many possibilities for both Hera and Tom.

The orphanage never had enough money to feed all the children, so it was out of the question for Tom and Hera to take the trolly. The town center was only about three miles away, so the two children walked. It was the first time in a long while that they had been able to be alone. The Matron distrusted Tom, and loved Hera like her own child. Mixing the two caused headaches that would last for weeks.

The two children walked downtown, talking the entire way. Hera would speak about the things she would get herself if she had as much money as she wanted, and Tom would talk about alternatives to those things. It was enjoyable for the both of them, and soon, they got to the village. It felt like they had been walking for barely ten minutes, when in reality, it had been twice that.

The first shop Hera dragged Tom into, was the bookstore. The bookstore owner knew the Matron very well. Well enough for rumors to be spreading like crazy about the two. Because of this very close relationship, all the orphans got 75% off of every purchase. All they had to do was promise not to speak about the relationship to the townspeople. The owner of the bookstore was married after all.

The moment Tom and Hera entered the store, they both breathed in a large breath of old books. It was the scent both liked most. It was soothing to them, and Hera calmed down a little about the plans they had.

Hera had always loved fantasy, and true to that, she hopped right over to the fantasy section. There were meager pickings, as many of the townspeople agreed with Hera and her love of fantasy. The war going on had put many people into a position of wanting to read fantasy, where no matter what happens, the good guys will always come out on top. Hera found the final installment of the  _ Lord of the Rings _ series quite quickly, and ran over to Tom, who had the money. He looked at her book choice and smiled a little, he had collected the first three books by various means, stealing from other children, although he would never admit to it in front of Hera, getting the last one was a something he had been looking forward to,

"I am glad you found this," he murmured, excitement lacing his tone, "I can read it aloud before we go to sleep if you want," Hera looked up at him, her head cocked,

“Really?” he nodded down at her, and she squealed, the joy of having a good book and good company taking over her. It was something she had wanted to ask. Having Tom read to her was one of the most relaxing parts of her day. She got to sit there and doze in and out of sleep while the low smooth tones of Tom's voice washed over her. Filling her head with the wonders of the Hobbit realm.

As they left the bookshop, many of the people lingering around saw the excited little girl and came over, asking what was going on. Tom always answered with a short,

"She is excited about the chance to leave the orphanage for once, Matron does not have enough money for all of us to take trips together," and soon after, there would be hands full of money pushing their way Toms way. He would decline once, then take it while sighing,

"I really shouldn't, but maybe we could save this and have a nice Christmas dinner this year," He would look down at Hera, fake sorrow in his eyes. He would thank the people for their generosity and Hera would bounce after them, thanking them over and over, her high pitched voice filling the air.

There was a bar that the adults from the orphanage (specifically Matron) frequented, and there was a small corner of the shop dedicated to ice cream. Each child got one ice cream on their birthday, and for many, that was the highlight of their year. It was cold, and sweet, melting on your tongue as you licked the delicious frozen treat.

Hera bounced up to the man behind the counter, excitement visibly rolling off her. Her power was going  _ crazy _ and Tom  _ loved _ it. He could soak in that soft breeze and springtime air for hours, never getting tired of it.

Tom loved watching her, the brightness, the energy. It wasn’t like he wasn’t energetic, he had learned to hide it. To keep everything inside. Hera had not learned that yet, and he hoped that she would never have to. He wanted her to keep that childlike energy, he wanted her to look at the world and not see the awful things that go on, to keep seeing the best in everyone. It was one of the things he loved most about her.

Hera ordered strawberry ice cream, and with the leftover money, Tom also got a dark chocolate and coffee flavored ice cream. The two children made their way outside to eat their treats. It would not be good to get any on their clothing or on the floor, and sitting outside would make it easier to not make a mess. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is so short, I am trying to figure out my schooling situation. This chapter really had it out for my guys… like… come on.
> 
> If you guys have any questions, feel free to PM me, I should answer within the day. I hope you enjoyed it, please comment any suggestions or thoughts you had about this chapter.
> 
> I love you guys (male, female, other, and spoons)
> 
> BookFairy


	8. Chapter 8: There seems to be a fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumb old door comes to give Tom his Hogwarts letter

Tom knew it was going to be a shit day when he woke up. Hera was not bouncing on his bed, and it was almost eight in the morning. It was no surprise that breakfast was soggy oatmeal and soggier toast. And Hera wasn’t there. Matron said she was ill with something. Presumably from when they went to town. Tom felt bad, he really did, but at the same time, he also was a little angry at her. She was stuck in her room all day, and he couldn’t visit her. The two hadn’t gone a day without seeing each other since Hera had arrived.

Tom went back into his room, anticipating a day of reading the lone books that still lived in his room. He didn't even have the book Hera had just purchased. There was a slight noise from the inside of his dresser and he jumped, before running over to it and pulling the doors open. Inside was Hera. A Hera who was sweaty and looked a little ill, but Hera nonetheless. 

Her power washed over him, telling him that it was okay, that she was fine. Hera had her new book as well, so they could read it as the day passed.

Many hours later, footsteps were heard by Hera, coming up the stairs to his room. He quickly ushered Hera back into the dresser and layed back on his bed, feet ankles crossed and book at the ready. He looked to all like he had been reading for hours, shifting positions to make himself more comfortable every few minutes.

A man walked in the door, and Tom narrowed his eyes. A new doctor had not been called in for a long time. Was it possible that they had found that Hera was in his room?? No. Impossible. He lifted his head to the man and said,

"Who are you?" His voice left no room for argument, and the man replied, his voice soft, as though talking to a wild animal,

"I am Albus Dumbledore," Tom shook his head slightly,

' _ More like Dumb old door _ ' He thought, eyes lifting to give the impression he was paying attention, "The matron has not sent in a new doctor in a while," Tom started, eyes never leaving Dumbledore's face, " She seems to think that all of my sociopathic tendencies have gone away no that Hera is here," Dumbledore looked a little perturbed, most likely thinking that Tom was a normal child. The old man smiled once more,

"Tom, you need not fear," God, this guy was speaking to Tom like he was an invalid chipmunk, "I am not a dok...tor," he sounded the words out as if they were forging, "I am from a school , a school for magic," He looked straight at Tom, as if looking at his soul,

"You can do things Tom, things that other children can’t," Tom narrowed his eyes, this man either was stalking them, or he had powers like this too. The man continued,

“I am like you Tom, I am  _ different _ ,” The word hung in the air, weighted down with the meaning it held,

“Prove it,” Tom stated, his voice cold with disbelief. Moments later, the wardrobe Hera was hiding in caught on fire. His eyes widened, and Dumbledore, unknowing of the child inside the burning wardrobe, said,

“Tom, it seems like something inside there is trying to get out,” Tom looked at him as though he were insane, but Dumbledore continued,

“Why don’t you see what it is,” His voice was patronizing, he felt like a small child, and Tom hated it. There was a faint rattling inside the wardrobe, and the doors opened. Hera stepped out of it, the hem of her dress slightly burnt,

“Why,” she started, voice colder than it had any right to be, “Did you make the  _ wonderful _ decision,” She took a step closer to Dumbledore, eyes fiery, “To set a child’s wardrobe on fire when  _ all  _ of their worldly possessions were in there?” her voice shook with anger, and Tom sent a wave of his power to calm her down. She shot a look at him, but looked slightly relieved.

“For all you know, that fire could have destroyed  _ every  _ single,” With every word she spoke, Hera took a step towards Dumbledore and Tom took two steps away, “Item that he owned,” Hera’s voice went beyond cold, beyond sharp, and then, the dam broke. 

The springtime Tom was so used to, the springtime that he loved was gone. In its place was a fiery summer that shriveled up every plant, that melted homes and killed people. In its place was a raging inferno of pure fury that stretched for miles in every direction. Dumbledore scooted back on the chair he was sitting in, fear in his eyes. This power that Hera held could destroy nations. It could bring the world to its knees, and Dumbledore was worried that he already had alienated the child.

Tom ran over to Hera and caught her as she fell, body exhausted from the fury and the power drain. He wrapped his arm around her, and decided that it was his time to shine. He pushed out his power, his anger crackling, but less so than Hera. She was always so volatile and everything she did was warm, her anger would burn, and her joy would boil over. Tom was the opposite. Everything he did was cold. When he became happy, his cold demeanor melted a little, but his eyes never truly lost the ice that filled them.

With the cold of his anger taking over, Tom put Hera down on the chair by his desk. He turned to Dumbledore,

"You could have killed her," were the only words that left his mouth. They were quiet and felt like he was slipping a knife into the old man's skin. A feeling of immense power washed over him as Dumbledore took a step back. Tom flared his magic even more, letting a cold fear wrap around Dumbledore,

"Like Hera said, Mr. Dumbledore," Tom practically inhaled the discomfort Dumbledore was emitting, "You could have burned all of my worldly possessions. How would you feel if you did that?" Tom put the most angelic face in he could, and Dumbledore fell for it.

He looked down, his cheeks slightly pink, from anger or embarrassment, Tom didn't know. He apologized, and gave Tom a letter. He then explained all about the wizarding world and the many things he would need to buy so he would succeed in school. Tom smiled,

"I will not need any assistance with getting any of my supplies, thank you," Dumbledore narrowed his eyes,

"You are not allowed to tell young Hera, or anyone else about magi-"

"Isn't Hera a witch as well?" Tom interrupted. The old man sighed before replying,

"She is, but seeing as she is muggleborn, it is ill advised for her to know about magic before she receives her Hogwarts letter," Tom rolled his eyes. The stupid rule that the headmaster had put in place would be broken in mere moments. Anything that Tom knew, to an extent, Hera knew.

Dumbledore left Tom with a pile of pamphlets explaining all sorts of things about the Wizarding world. All sorts of things that made absolutely no sense. Apparently he had to wear what was practically a dress. There were about a billion and a half new social rules he had to follow, that he was not angry about, but the fact that he was at an extreme disadvantage just because of the fact that he was raised as a muggle. Blasphemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all human(and non human) life forms. This chapter was quite fun to write. I got to rewatch some of the Harry Potter films because I am not truly a fan and therefore don’ t have the entirety of the scripts memorised. I am sorry about the short chapter (Again) but this felt like a good stopping point. (It was either end here or add another thousand words) I hope you guys enjoyed!  
> If you guys have any questions, feel free to PM me, I should answer within the day. I hope you enjoyed it, please comment any suggestions or thoughts you had about this chapter.
> 
> I love you guys, gals, (g)others, and grass
> 
> Bookfairy
> 
> ** This was the last of the chapters written on ff.net, and I, as previously mentioned, am going to be taking a break. I should be able to update in time for Christmas, but depending on how well my rain wants to function, that might be pushed back a little. Thank you so much for your patience, and good night**


	9. Ch 9 - Abraxas and Diagon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hera and Tom go school shopping and have an encounter with Abraxas Malfoy.

Tom had finally said that she could go to Diagon alley. It had been almost a month since the rude old man had barged into their lives, but it felt like years to Hera, who had not been allowed outside of the orphanage. It was Tom's rule. She couldn't go out with him until he knew the Alley well enough.

She put back on the silver dress from her birthday, and let the older girls braid her hair. She refused to let them apply any product to her face this time, no matter how much they begged. Because Tom had pre- approved the outing, the two only had to stop in with Matron for a brief moment before being allowed to go. Hera, almost bouncing, dragged Tom down the street,

"Darling, I  _ have  _ been here before," He laughed at her dismayed expression,

"But Tom," she whined, trying to obtain even the smallest bit of sympathy, 

"I’ve never been, and it is going to be so exciting," Hera let go of his hand for a moment so she could twirl, letting her dress flare out around herself. Tom smiled down at his only friend,

"We will get there in time, don't worry. I am going to get you robes, so you can blend in , then you can wander around. The bookshop will need to be last, as we are getting supplies today, and I want to have enough money," Hera sighed, but quickly perked up,

" I see it Tom, over there," she flung her arm out, ignoring the people who looked at her oddly. Tom put a hand on her shoulder, and immediately, she calmed, all of the excitement previously seen disappearing.

Tom led her into the dingey pub, ignoring everyone inside. He made a beeline to the back, where a door stood propped open. Tom led Hera through the doorway and looked down at the small girl,

"I need you to remember this pattern. It is important as this is the only way you can get into the alley." Hera started resolutely at the bricks and her stare became rather intense as Tom tapped on a series of bricks. Tom spoke quietly,

"It does not matter what brick you start on, but the pattern must always be the same." Tom paused and Hera let out a gasp as the bricks melted away. She had never seen anything like it. It was like a curtain opening, but bricks. They were parting like an ocean before a God, welcoming Hera into a new world.

As she looked beyond the curtain of bricks, her astonishment grew. There were so many odd things in Diagon Alley. There was a woman with a stuffed crow on her head, some half beast creature shouting about mushrooms that fixed eyesight, so many wondrous things. It was all Hera could do to not run from store to store, geeking out about all the amazing things in this colorful world. 

A new world. A world that would be hers.

Hera turned to Tom, 

“This will be ours. All of it.” She looked around covertly, her voice cold with the absolute certainty that she felt, “Tom. It is beautiful, but I have been here for mere moments and there is dicrimination everywhere,” Tom let the corners of his mouth fall,

“I have not seen anything too obvious, but it is ingrained in the culture.” Hera opened her mouth, about to start speaking, but Tom shook his head. He grabbed Hera's arm and began leading her down the alley. Every time Hera tried to pull off of his arm to go look at a store front, Tom would grunt, and pull her closer to his body. It felt really nice. His body was warm and the muscle Tom had developed on his stomach felt sturdy, secure.

When Tom stopped the gentle presses leading Hera, she looked around. There was a store with "Madame Malkins" embossed on the sign. Outside of the shop there were many different styles of clothing. Hera walked into the shop, head held high. One thing that every orphan knew was that if you looked like you belonged, no one would question why you were there.

A short woman with light blonde hair walked over to Hera. The woman quickly pulled Hera to a back room and pushed her onto a pedestal,

"Hello, Darling," The woman began, " What are you looking for today?" Hera's eyebrows shot up, and she looked around, for the first time realizing that Tom was not with her,

"Um, I-"

"She'll have two sets of everyday,a set of formal, and a winter cloak," Hera let out a sigh of relief as Tom interrupted her.

The woman sighed, and pushed Tom out of the room,

"Boys like you shouldn't be in a girl's changing room," she scolded, voice pitched high, " Shameful, I will be having a conversation with your mother about this young man!" her voice was rising in volume, and Hera covered her ears as the woman finished. Blonde hair whipped around as the woman turned,

"So. You never got to tell me what you wanted before that dreadful boy interrupted. What's the selection?" Hera shook her head, Tom knew better than to barge into somewhere where any amount of skin might be showing with adults,   
  


"I will have what he said. Mother gave him the list. 

The woman scoffed, obviously seeing through Hera's lie, but nodded, collecting the items. Hera's head turned, looking around the back of the shop. There were so many different color options. it was a little overwhelming to Hera, who had only been in the little fabric shop in town. The shop had a range of colors, but none so exciting as Madame Malkins. There were bright colors everywhere.

Hera's eyes widened as she looked at a piece of fabric draped over a lamp. It was sky blue with little golden balls flying all around it. They were moving. On fabric. Hera's mouth dropped open a little bit, her lips parting.

The woman came back, various fabrics in a neatly folded pile in her pale arms. She put the pile of cloth on the chair, and Hera's eyes darted back to the blue and gold moving fabric. There was a slight knock on the wall separating Hera off from the main store, and Tom poked his head in. The woman turned, her face stony as she went to confront Tom. Hera snapped her head to the commotion, having been distracted watching the hypnotising blue fabric,

"Oh, Tom," she began, her voice pleading, "Please help me. You know all I wear at home is grey," Her voice shook with amusement at the fake fear she was putting into her voice. Hera was a little by the pile of fabric she would soon have on her body, but nothing so dramatic as needing Tom's help. Tom's lips turned up, recalling the many times Hera had complained about shopping for cloth and clothing with the matron,

"She will have all the robes in black or dark brown, dark green or cream, respectively," Tom was in his element, and Hera admired her friend as he deftly got the sales woman to obey his every command. Even with the really mean and uncooperative salespeople, Tom always got them to love him. This time was no different.

There was a slight jangaling sound and faint strains of a pompous conversation into the back room,

“Mother… needen’t… mudbloods,” Hera turned to Tom, the corners of her lips turning down,

“Go charm him. I want him to suffer when he realizes that the two most powerful people in his year are,” she paused, her voice turning dark. She sneered, “filthy little mudbloods,” The woman fitting her choked, holding back laughter. 

Tom’s head snapped around to look at the woman,

“You may doubt it, but I am going to be stronger than anyone else,” the woman smiled as though she was looking at a very young child, 

“Darling, I have no doubt that you will be the strongest, your little angel is getting very aggravated, and you should probably go ‘charm him’. It will be amusing to all-” She cut off, and Hera’s magic, already flared and hot, got hotter, and began swirling,

“Tom,” Hera’s voice was cold, “please go introduce yourself. I’m sure we will be the best,” her voice was thick with sarcasm, “of friends. We would not want to miss out on opportunities of friendship, would we?” Hera’s voice pitched upwards, and it sounded as though she were speaking to a dog. 

Tom looked at Hera, then looked at the wall next to her as though he was going to refuse; he quickly left the changing room when the temperature rose a few degrees. 

  
  
  


Hera walked into the waiting room and almost had to walk out again when she saw the boy who had been speaking with Tom. He had the lightest hair she had ever seen. It was brighter than the moon on a dark night.

The moment Hera was seen by the light haired boy, he was standing, aggravation and hatred rolling off of him in waves,

"Filth!" Hera looked at him, her arms crossed; she turned to Tom,

"Why would ya’ let ‘im say that? I thought you said you were goin’ ta make a good impression," Hera purposefully relaxed her speech, hoping it would make the shiny boy like her more. It did not,

"Merlin, you can't even talk right," Tom shot the boy a glare,   
  


"I will have you know that Hera was only found to be magical a few months ago yet she is almost as bright as you are; she is also a full three years younger.” Hera's eyes bunched, but she let Tom lie. The taller boy sneered, his mind obviously going to the fact that Hera was muggleborn. 

“You are both so far below me, I would not even let you polish my shoe-” Tom cut shiney boy off, and Hera sighed. She would have liked to hear his whole rant about shoe polish and servitude,

“Actually,  _ Malfoy, _ you are below Hera; she was cast out of the Potter family for being a squib, but recently showed signs of strong magic,” Malfoy looked about ready to open his mouth when Tom spoke again, “As you know, even the lowest of the Potter family are above you. The,” Tom’s voice dropped to a whisper, and he leant close to the Malfoy heir, “Deathly hallows business and all that,” Hera almost laughed, Malfoy turned a delightful shade of red and paled at the same time, it was amusing to watch as his face rapidly changed colors,

“If she was declared a squib,” The boy scrunched his nose as he spat out the word, “Then she has no magic. That's how it goes,  _ mudblood _ ,” The moment Malfoy turned on Tom, Hera’s simmering anger turned to a boil. Her magic flared and the Malfoy heir was soon pinned to the window of the shop by bands of flame. It did not yet burn, but as the boy panicked and shouted more slurs, the bands became hotter and hotter,

“Take. That. Back.” Hera was growling, stalking closer to the boy who looked ready to piss his pants. There was a noise from behind her, and Hera whipped around only to scoff when she saw Tom chuckling at the other boy’s misfortune. At the same time, she let her power relax a little more, letting the bands turn just to the point of burning, instead of the slightly uncomfortable heat that had previously been emitting from the cuffs.

Malfoy screeched before conceding,

“Ak! Okay, okay, I’m sorry for calling you a mudblood!” Hera released the bonds, pulling her magic back in a swoosh of heat. Malfoy let out a sigh,

“I’m sorry for calling you a mudblood, you obviously have more power then a mudblood could ever have an-” Tom scoffed as the blond spoke, “What? Do you have a problem with the fact that older families are more powerful?” Tom sneered at the taller boy,

“I do not necessarily agree with the statement but you can believe whatever you want.” Malfoy began, once again, that he was preparing for a fight, so Tom turned to Hera, “It is time for us to go, your clothing has arrived,”

Hera looked down and was greeted by a large pile of boxes. The finished clothing ad bee placed at her feet at some point. 

_ Magic could do that? _

_ Cool. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi...  
> I'm back!! I am in a better place, but updates still might be a little slow. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It is extra long as an apology. I do like how long the chapter was, although it took longer to write. Would you guys prefer that I continue with longer, more spaced out chapters, or go back to around 1,000 word chapters? If you want I can try and make the chapters longer then this one. 
> 
> If you guys have any questions, feel free to message me or comment, I should answer within the day. I hope you enjoyed it, please comment any suggestions or thoughts you had about this chapter.
> 
> I love you guys (male, female, other, and spoons)
> 
> BookFairy


	10. Chapter 10 - The Hogwarts Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long goodbye scene.

Though she always claimed otherwise, Hera looked adorable when she pouted. She could deny it as much as she wanted to, but she was pouting almost constantly when she realized that she would only see Tom for a couple weeks a year. Unfortunately, Tom was an arsehole who refused to sneak Hera in. 

The whole walk to the station, Hera was pouting and trying to convince Tom to take her with him to Hogwarts. She knew it was futile, he knew it was futile, but she still tried, because maybe, maybe, he would choose not to leave her. 

Tom could see the warring emotions of Hera, and it made him a little sad, but mostly angry. This was his chance. He could go make something of himself by going to Hogwarts, but Hera was being jealous and trying to ruin his future. He knew she would be lonely, but she could deal with a little bit of loneliness for, what, not even two years. 

“Hera-” his voice was dark, and Hera flinched away, “I know what you are going to say. Do you really want to ruin my entire life just because you are a little jealous?” The pain in Hera’s eyes made him hesitate, but Tom knew that he had to continue, “You will have your chance, but right now, it is my turn, and if you think that I am going to give up all we have worked for, the hours of training out power, you are just as bad as the others.”

Hera’s eyes filled with tears, 

“I-” she sniffed, trying to hold back her tears, “I was just going to ask-” she sniffed again, and Tom scoffed, “I was going to ask if you would send me letter-”Her voice broke, and she snapped, running into Tom’s taller form. He sighed, then wrapped his arms around her slim form,

“I’m sorry Hera, but I still have to go. I promised to send you all my notes, and a letter every two days,” He tugged himself out of her grip and turned to King’s Cross. Tom grabbed Hera’s hand and his trunk and began walking into the station.

It took longer than he had wanted to find the entrance but once he did, the magic he had read so much about began unfurling. He walked, hand in hand with Hera towards the pillar, ignoring the odd looks they were getting. As the many introductory books had instructed, Tom leant against the pillar. 

Moments later, the strangest sensation overtook him. The once solid bricks he was leaning on began softening. Tom looked to the wall, and before his eyes lay a slightly hazy image with what seemed like hundreds of children running around. Then, as though he were falling through jello, Tom emerged on the other side. He could still see Hera, although the image was swirly. It became clearer as she walked through after him, a look of wonder on her face,

“Tom-” Her voice was full of wonder, and it made Tom’s lips quirk up, “It’s so-” She gasped, “It’s so-” A smirk shot over her face, “magical” Tom sighed, it was only moments after being truly introduced to this new world, and already, she was making bad puns. When they took over the world, he may have to decree that only she could make puns, because it was awful.

Tom turned to her, and she immediately sobered, knowing that this would be the last time they spoke for a long time. He bent down, realizing that the height difference now would only grow with the months apart. He placed a kiss on her forehead, then bent down a little more to wrap his arms around her shoulders. He stayed there for a moment, only pulling away when he heard an odd noise coming from within his arms. He looked down at Hera only to find that his best friend, his queen was sobbing, tears streaming down her face,

“Oh darling, please don’t cry. I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I will miss you so much.” He was practically crooning, trying to get the small girl to stop with her sobbing, “I am going to miss you so, so, so much. I promise to write every other day, and if that’s not enough, I will write every day. After every test I will send my notes, and I will let you have all of the essay prompts. It will be like you are here with me. I promise,” 

Hera’s eyes, while still watering, dried considerably, and her sniffles subsided. She reached out and gave Tom a hug, tight and warm. It felt like home. He smiled down at her,

“I will see you in a few months here, Make sure to keep the kids in line and Learn as much as you can. It's going to miss you so much,” He reached out and patted her head, then turned and walked towards the gleaming train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! This is a super short chapter, but I felt like it should be posted now, while I perfect the next chapter. It should come out on Sunday (at some point)
> 
> I have a new writing schedule, so you should be getting a chapter every week or so, although they will generally be shorter then my current average (they should be around 1,400 words.) I might change that to every two weeks depending on how I do, but I will try and solidify into some sort of schedule.


	11. Chapter 11 - Hogwarts Express pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom gets on the train and meets some of his older classmates

It was hard turning away from Hera and walking towards his future. 

It hurt knowing that she would be alone for most of the year. Tom ignored the fear, ignored the heart wrenching pain that came with breaking away from the only thing that had been stable in his life. Tom walked towards the train, step after step. He was soon encased in the shiny red train.

It was never hard to guess where the older kids sat. At home, it was at the back of the bus, and here it would be the same, so Tom pulled his trunk down the hall of the train until he reached the end. There were three compartments, and seeing as all but one of them were locked, he went into the third.

Tom glanced around the small compartment, questioning why Hogwarts was considered the best school in the land when they had tacky looking seats that would better fit in an opium den then a train for school children. Tom shrugged, and sat down, withholding a grimace as he touched the cheap fake velvet. He was in a little bit of shock at how disgusting the compartment looked. Hera’s thirty year old room that had children living in it all year around was cleaner than this. There were brown stains on the seats, and the gold accents on the windows and door were chipped and crumbling. 

Grimacing at the stains, Tom waved a hand. The stains lightened, then disappeared entirely. He flicked his other hand at the crumbling paint, and the gaps filled in, making the compartment look close to new. He glanced out the door before running a hand along the velvet seats. He wanted to try one of the harder topics that had been covered in his textbooks, transfiguration of cloth to an animal product. His magic was concentrated in a thin beam, icing over the seat before dissipating, leaving soft brown leather in its place.

Tom released his magic, letting it fill the compartment with the frosty joy that comes with the first snow. He reached into the rucksack that was stuffed full of shrunken books and nicknacks (most of them pressed into his hands by a tearful Hera), and pulled out a well loved book. He then sat back and made himself comfortable. 

  
  
  


Tom didn’t know how long it had been, but sounds of loud voices and laughter soon came trickling into his ears. The compartment door, which he had forgotten to lock, slammed open. Three teenagers, who all looked around sixteen entered. The middle one, a tall boy with sharp features, spoke,

“Aw, Dru, look at the thirdie who doesn’t know his place!” the boy laughed, “He’s so tiny for a third year. You think he can hold a shield?” The boy turned to the blonde next to him, a mean grin on his face, but Tom interrupted before ‘Dru’ could respond,

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Tom said, not a hint of apology in his tone, “but you are making a racket and I got here first,” His voice turned slightly petulant at the end, but to make up for it, he flared his magic, and the compartment got noticeably cooler. The boy who had already spoken laughed,

“You’ve got spunk, you can stay,” There was mirth in his voice, and from the soft chuckle that emerged from the girl next to him, she found the situation amusing as well,

“I’m Druella Rosier,” the girl started, her voice soft, “This is my twin brother Evander-”

The other boy interrupted, “It’s Evan,” and the girl turned to glare at him,

“This is  _ Evander,  _ my brother, and the irritating little arsehole who you already spoke to is my betrothed, Cygnus Black. We are sixth years at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and you, my little thirdie friend are in our compartment,” 

Tom smirked at the Rosier twins, ignoring the black haired boy who was poking at the new leather seats with his wand, 

“I’m Tom Riddle,” He drawled, knowing that the impression he made on these three would likely dictate the rest of his school years, “I’m not, in fact, a ‘thirdie’ I am a first year. And to answer the question that seems to be running through your head, Black, I just transfigured the seats a few minutes ago. The interior looked tacky, and I felt that such a  _ fine  _ establishment as Hogwarts should have a…” his voice faded off, obviously thinking about how to disparage the seats without being obviously rude, “ a few nicer touches,” is what he decided on. Rosier, the female version, seemed amused by the amount of disdain Tom was sure he was emitting.

The three students sat across from him, Black and Rosier cuddling up against each other. It was clear, to Tom at least, that the male Rosier… Evan, was it? Was uncomfortable with how close his sister was getting to her future husband. 

Evan, most likely noticing Tom's knowing smirk, decided it would be a good time to start a conversation. He cleared his throat,

“So, Riddle, what house do you think you will be in?” The boy did look mildly interested, so Tom gave it a little bit of thought.

He was rather chivalrous, and often incredibly determined, but gryffindor didn’t really suit him. It seemed like a group of kids who struggled with impulse control, and while Tom was ruthless and often cruel, he did think about what he was going to do before doing them. 

Hufflepuff was a maybe. He was loyal to a fault when dealing with friends, and he would work harder than anyone else to get what he wanted, but it seemed like, front the books he had read, that hufflepuff was seen as the overly nice, non-threatening people who were only really there to pad the school and help stop fights. Tom was  _ not  _ a background character.

Ravenclaw was definitely in the running. He was smart, witty, and Tom thought he valued wisdom (although he sometimes ignored it in favor of making people pay for what they had done).

Slytherin matched every trait. He was cunning, without a doubt, ambition was something that he had always had an abundance of, and he matched better with the slytherin loyalty requirements then the hufflepuff. To those he considered ‘his’, Tom was unwaveringly loyal, and would kill anyone who dared to hurt them. 

Tom shook his head, breaking himself out of the circle of thoughts,

“I think slytherin would fit me best,” His sharp voice broke the silence, and the smaller of the Rosiers almost squealed in excitement, “I could probably get into ravenclaw if I tried hard enough-” He was cut off by Druella,

“You should come to slytherin. It’s the best house ever! We are there, and I’m sure you would be able to make so many amazing friends if you join us,” Her voice was gradually getting higher, and the taller of the twins was schootching farther and farther away from his sister.

“I think I would like that.” Simple, to the point, but made his intentions clear. Tom  _ would  _ be going into slytherin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its late, but still sunday!
> 
> I decided to cut a chunk out of this so I could get this out on time, so next weeks chapter might be a touch shorter then usual. I have been rewatching Bnha and you may find that Druella behaves a little like Toga. I'm currently in the prosses of writing a couple Bnha fics, so look out for those in the near(ish) future.


	12. GOING ON HIATUS

I'm really sorry to everyone who has supported me and been commenting and subscribing. It makes me feel wonderful about my writing and how much I have grown from the first chapter I posted. As you all may know from my previous author's notes, my mental health is not in a great place right now. I will continue to try and write this story, but you will not get any updates until either the story is complete, or I feel like I am in a place where I can update again. Thank you again so much for the support you have given me.

BookFairy


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